Comments,
insults, throwing of rotten fruit: comments can be sent to me at dbelt@mindspring.com.
Don’t be shy. That’s my job, and I delight in it. Insults and the throwing of
rotten fruit can be directed toward Congress. They probably deserve it.

Misc: Dear and gentle readers: This story
was not inspired by me dropping acid. Just wanted to make that clear. It was
inspired by me drinking half a bottle of wine. Just kidding. Okay, I’m not
kidding. It was also inspired by thinking about forest fairies, those
delightful, mischievous mythological creatures, and wondering what would happen
if...well, you’ll see. Hope you enjoy!

~~~~~~~~

“Lord, what fools these mortals be!”

–Puck, a fairy, in Wm. Shakespeare’s A
Midsummer Night’s Dream

~~~~~~~~

“Mommy, I
lost my tooth.”

Alice
glanced up from her book. “Oh, my. You did, didn’t you? Let me see.”Little Callie obediently opened her mouth,
and Alice smiled. A front tooth was missing. It wasn’t bleeding, either. She
sighed, a bittersweet sigh of resignation. Nature was at work, and her little
girl was growing. Before one knew it, little Callie would be a big girl, with
curves and make-up and attitude. She wasn’t looking forward to that. She
enjoyed her daughter now, at a delightful, childish, mischievous, creative age.
A thought crossed Alice’s mind, and she brightened. “Oh! Do you have your
tooth?”

Callie
opened her hand. In her palm, the tooth rested. “Yes.”

Alice
stifled a laugh. The ‘yes’ came out with a hiss, a lisp caused by the gap in
her front teeth. It was charming. “Well, go put it under your pillow.”

Callie
made a face. “Ick. Why?”

“Because
if you put it under your pillow, the tooth fairy will come tonight and take it,
and she’ll leave a shiny new coin in its place.”

“Oh.”
Alice thought about it, then looked at her daughter’s inquisitive face. “I
really don’t know.” She leaned closer to the little girl and whispered,
“Something magic, I imagine.”

Callie
giggled. “Like what?”

“Well,
what do you think?”

“Oh! I
know! She puts it in the sky, and it becomes a star!”

Alice
laughed in delight. Great answer. Leave it to a six-year-old. “That’s right,
dear. Now, it’s time for bed. Put your tooth under your pillow, and brush your
teeth and wash your face. Then, I’ll read you a story.”

“Okay!”

With
that, Callie ran from the room. Alice watched her go, then smiled and returned
her attention to her book, even as she kept an ear open to hear the running of
the water and the eventual squeaky announcement that Callie was in bed and was
awaiting her story.

~~~~~~~~~

Fresh
from her shower, Alice padded across her bedroom. She stopped when she passed
by her full-length mirror, and she considered her reflection. How plain I am,
she thought. She dropped her towel and studied herself. An average body, in
every way. Average height, average weight, average curves, average face,
average everything. Not pretty, not ugly. Just...there. And no color. Brown
hair, brown eyes, light brown skin tone. She looked down at her chest. Hell,
she thought. Even those are brown! How monotone. I could be in the middle of a
crowd and be invisible. It would have been thrilling, she thought, to have had
beautiful red hair, alabaster skin, blue or green eyes. But nope. Alice gets
monotone. I’m so boring. She looked down at her feet. Maybe I should paint my
nails. Get some color on me. Let’s see...brown, brown, brown, brown...red. Nah.
Who am I trying to kid? Alice, quit the pity-party. You are what you are. Just
shut up and go to bed. She stifled a huge yawn.

She
lifted a worn, thigh-length nightgown from her chest of drawers and slipped it
over her head. God, but she was tired. Every day is a long day for a single
mother, and today was no exception. Had she known then what she knew now, would
she still have had Callie? Alice smiled. Yeah. Absolutely.

She made
one more trek through the house, checking the locks on the doors and making
sure the lights were out. Then, she felt her way through the darkened house
toward her bed. On the way, she stopped at Callie’s door one more time. The
curtains were open, and silvery moonlight lit the room. She could see that
Callie was asleep, her favorite stuffed tiger in her arms. What a kid, Alice
thought, as she found her own bed. Her head hit the pillow, and she was dead to
the world before her exhausted mind could form another coherent thought.

Some time
later, Alice woke. Slowly, she sat erect in bed. The bathroom light was on in
the hallway. Callie must have gotten up. Alice pulled aside the covers; her
feet found the floor, and she plodded down the hallway, rubbing bleary eyes.
It’s just as well that Callie’s up, she thought. I’ve got to take that tooth
and leave a coin. Now might be a good time.

She
stopped at the open bathroom door, and she stifled a shriek. Her back thumped
against the wall, and her heart pounded in her chest. Her mouth moved, but at
first, no words were forthcoming.

“Nope,”
came the reply. A snicker followed, then the voice said, “Not even close.”

“Who–?”
Alice pointed and stammered. “Who–?”

“Who am
I?”

“Yeah!
And what–? What–?”

“What am
I doing in your house in the middle of the night?”

“Yeah!
That, too!”

“What
does it look like I’m doing? I’m sittin’ on the can. So sue me. I had to pee.
Um, do ya mind?”

Alice
looked away. “Oh. Sorry.”

The
toilet flushed. A moment later, the bathroom’s occupant stepped into the hall
and faced her. Alice stared in amazement, even as she backed up a few paces.
She was speechless.

A young
woman stood before her, short and slender, almost pixie-ish in appearance. She
couldn’t have been any more than five feet tall, and maybe eighty or so pounds.
Her torso was covered with a short–very short!--dress of–what material was
that? It looked soft, glittery, and woodsy. Her arms and legs were bare, and
her feet wore flimsy, ancient-looking leather sandals. Most eye-catching,
though, were the gossamer-like wings which arose from her back and formed a
halo about her head and torso, and her hair, cut in a chaotic, freaky style
with streaks of blue and scarlet and who-knows-what-else running through it.
And her ears were pointed! And pierced. At the top. And the bottom. Her nose
was pierced, too, and–was that a tattoo winding around one thigh? It looked
intricate, gorgeous even. And what’s with those eyes? They’re the oddest eyes
I’ve ever seen, Alice thought. Is this chick on drugs? Alice looked her up and
down, then found her voice.

“I repeat
my question. Who–?”

The
apparition raised an eyebrow. “So who do I look like to you?”

“You look
like a cross between Mister Spock and Lady Gaga.”

The
apparition laughed. “Close. Real close.” She puffed up her chest and spread her
arms wide. Her wings flapped a few times. “I’m the tooth fairy.”

Alice’s
jaw dropped. “Yeah, right.”

“No,
really. You’re lucky, y’know. Most humans don’t see me. I go invisible when I’m
in their houses. Like this,” the fairy said, then nodded. She disappeared. A
moment later, she reappeared. “See?” The apparition shrugged. “You caught me
with my pants down.” She laughed. “So to speak. I was so into reading
your Cosmo.”

“Holy
shit!” was all that Alice could find to say. She rubbed her eyes. “That didn’t
just happen. I don’t believe it. You didn’t just disappear.”

“Boy,
you’re a tough sell.” The fairy thought for a second. “Okay. I’ll prove to you
that I’m the tooth fairy. You’ve got a daughter named Callie, right?”

“Yeah.”

“She lost
a tooth tonight, right?”

“How did
you know that?”

The fairy
shot her a ‘Duh!’ look. “I’m the tooth fairy. I’m supposed to know these
things.”

“Oh.”

“So, here
I am.” She pointed to a purse on her waist. “I pick up the tooth, and–” She
tapped the little purse. “I leave a coin.” She shrugged. “Hey, it’s what I do.”
She pointed a slender finger toward Alice. “What do you do?”

“I beg
your pardon?”

“Do. What
do you do? What’s your thing?”

“I, ah,
do freelance writing.”

“Oh,
cool! What do you write? Dirty books?” She snickered. “I love those things.”

“Magazine
articles, advertising copy, stuff like that.” The fairy looked a little
crestfallen at the news, so Alice shrugged. “Okay, yeah. You got me. I do write
romances under a pen name.”

“Radical!
I knew it. Real bodice-rippers, huh? You know, where the hot dude and the
heroine ravage each other?”

“Well,
actually...” Alice blushed a little. “Yeah. That, and lesbian romances, too.”
The fairy cocked her waif-like head in question. Her eyes, large and sparkly,
studied Alice. “You know,” Alice continued, “where the hot gal and the heroine
ravage each other?” She shrugged. “Yeah, I know. Literary porn. Potboilers.
Hey, it pays the bills.”

A slow
smile crossed the fairy’s face. “I think that is so kickin’!” she said. “Are
you writing something now?”

Alice
shook her head. “No. My agent’s all over me to start something new, though.”
Actually, she thought, I’m being slowly crushed to death under a massive case
of writer’s block. Just shoot me now and get it over with, before my agent
sends Guido over to my house to break a kneecap.

“Have you
ever written anything for Cosmo?”

“Yeah.
They did buy an article from me.”

“Trippin’!
That is so neat! Is it in here?” She held up the magazine.

“Yeah.
That’s why I have that magazine. I don’t buy it, normally.”

“You just
write for it, huh? Which article is it?” She looked at the cover. “Is it:
Bikini Waxing for Dummies?”

“Nope.”
Ouch.

“Oh, I
know! It’s this one: When Your Man Won’t Tell You What He’s Thinking.”

“Um, no.”
That would be an easy one to write, Alice thought. He’s not thinking anything.
Zero. Zip. Nada.

“Okay.
This one?” She pointed at the cover. “Obsessed With Your Ex?”

“Definitely
not. Not me.” If my ex ever shows up again, I’ll put a boot up his ass. Or her
ass, depending on which one shows up.

“Oh! It’s
gotta be this one.” She puzzled over the words, then looked up. “Why would
anyone write about having sex at the back door? Don’t they like their bed?”

“Um, I
don’t think...that’s what that...means, exactly...”

The big
fairy eyes studied Alice. “What’s it mean, then?”

“It’s
rather difficult to explain...” Alice covered her face with a hand. I can’t do
this. God, I am so embarrassed. That’s why I write under a pen name.

“Whoa.”
The fairy blinked. “Touchy tonight, aren’t we? Okay, I give up. Which one did
you write?”

Alice
softened. “It’s the one on achieving closer emotional intimacy.”

“You’re
an expert on that?”

“Hardly.”
She actually managed a weak smile. “I think they wanted a romance writer’s
point of view, though.” A fantasy writer would have been better, Alice thought.

“Oh.” The
fairy studied a page, then said, “Hey, this is weird. Why would you want to give
anybody a head? Don’t they have one already?”

Alice
covered her face with a hand and sighed. God help me, she thought. I can’t do
this now. “I don’t mean to seem rude, but can we please change the subject?”

The fairy
shot her an injured look. “Boy. Sorr-ee!” She perked up, then studied Alice
with wide, imploring eyes as she placed the magazine aside. “Hey. Could I have
something to drink? It’s been a long night.”

Alice
blinked in surprise. She considered the wide, questioning eyes before her. The
irises seemed liquid, sparkly pools. They were mesmerizing. Alice saw nothing
to fear in them. But more important, she felt nothing to fear from them. In
fact, she felt a warm comfort radiate from the strange creature before her.
Those eyes! God almighty. She felt her irritation melt away.

“Um,
yeah. Sure. The kitchen’s–”

The fairy
turned and headed down the hall. “I saw it on the way in.” She waved a hand.
“Come on. Join me, why don’t ya?”

Alice
followed the fairy into the kitchen. The strange creature walked silently,
lightly, almost as if she weighed nothing. Her wings seemed to move of their
own accord, expanding and then closing as she walked. She could see, on the
fairy’s bare back, the places where the wings erupted from her skin, on either
side of her spine. Alice was fascinated. They were real. They had to be.

Good God,
she thought. This is the real McCoy. She’s actually a fairy. Either that, or
that acid I dropped in college is coming back to haunt me...again! Oh, no!
Well, at least I’m not seeing cross-dressing zombies this time.

The fairy
opened the refrigerator. “Oh, neat. A whole six-pack. You want a beer?” She
peeked around the open refrigerator door.

“Ah,
sure. Why not?” This whole situation was so unbelievably bizarre, she just had
to go with it.

The
fairy, a bottle of beer in each hand, nudged the door closed with a toe. “Back
porch,” she said. “It’s nice out tonight, and we can talk without waking
Callie.”

In a moment,
they were sitting on the back porch, just within the halo of soft light
emanating from a nearby security lamp. The fairy perched on the wide arm of a
wooden bench, kicked off her sandals, and tucked her legs under her,
Indian-fashion. It allowed Alice to lean back, stretch her legs across the
seat, and watch as the fairy took a long, satisfying drink of cold beer.

“I’m
sorry I snapped at you in there,” Alice said. “I’m really a very gentle person,
most of the time.”

“Think
nothin’ of it,” the fairy said. “I can tell you’re a sweetie.” The fairy
grinned, a little self-consciously, and confessed, “Besides, I know I can be a
royal pain-in-the-ass sometimes.”

“Nonsense.”
Alice put on her best smile. “By the way, I’m Alice.”

“Well,
I’m pleased to meet ya, Alice.”

“Likewise.”
She watched the fairy swig her beer again. “Do you have a name?”

“Neat.”
Cobweb reached into her little pouch and pulled forth a ancient-looking clay
pipe, long-stemmed and with a small bowl. She clamped it between her teeth,
then snapped her fingers. The pipe lit. She took a luxurious drag, then blew
the smoke into the air.

“Oh, I
didn’t say that.” She took another drag on her pipe. Slowly, she exhaled. The
smoke curled up into the still night air.

Alice
took a sniff, then said, “That’s not tobacco.”

“Nope.
Forest herbs. A very old recipe.”

“Interesting.
But if you’re indestructible–”

“The
normal stuff won’t kill us. Not like it kills humans. We usually live a long
time.” Cobweb laughed, a tinkling little laugh. “For instance, one night, I
smacked into the windshield of a Mack truck that was honkin’ down the
interstate. Man, I was sore all over and covered with bugs, but all I got out
of it was a few bruises. He got a cracked windshield.”

“Thank
God you didn’t get hurt worse than that.”

“Oh, I
think it went worse for the driver. I saw him a little while later, pulled over
on the side of the road. He was pouring out half a bottle of booze onto the
grass. I mean, how would you react if you saw a fairy splat against your
windshield?”

“I guess
I’d swear off the cheap whiskey, too.”

“Right.” Cobweb scratched behind one ear with
the tip of a wing. “But wouldn’t you at least slow down or pull over or
something, right away?”

“I guess
so.” Alice said. “What, he didn’t?”

“No. The
lousy bum turned on the windshield wipers.” She puzzled in thought. “Maybe I
shouldn’t have flipped him off.”

Alice
cackled in laughter, then quieted as she noted Cobweb’s silence. “I’m sorry.
I’m sure that wasn’t funny to you.” Alice giggled again, then said, “It’s a
good thing it was a Mack. You’d have been in trouble if you’d hit a
Peterbuilt.”

Cobweb
laughed at that, a delightful sound reminiscent of the tinkling of myriad
little bells. “That’s a fact,” she said. “Knocked down and knocked up, all at
the same time.”

“Gee,”
Alice said. “I wonder what their hood ornaments look like?”

“Now
that’s a scary thought.” Cobweb shot a smile at Alice. “You’re pretty okay for
a human, Alice. You’ve managed to keep your sense of humor. That’s no small
feat, these days.”

“Gee,
thanks.” Alice smiled at the compliment. “What, most people don’t?”

“Nope.
Humans, I’ve noticed, have become a distinctly crabby bunch over the last
century.”

“Oh?
Why?”

“I
think,” Cobweb said, “that it’s because you guys are living longer.” She cast a
glance Alice’s way. “Not better. Just longer. That’s got to suck. And you
humans live so fast, these days. Always buried in your technology and hurrying
here and there in your cars. The worst invention you humans ever came up with,
in my opinion, was the time-piece. It’s become your god. Everybody’s got one
strapped to their wrist. Gotta be here now, gotta be there ten minutes ago. An
hour for this, fifteen minutes for that, but no time for the ones you love. No
time to enjoy the sunset, no time to watch the snow fall. No time to see the
deer run, or a rabbit forage, or listen to a bird’s song. No time for quiet
thought in front of a warm fireplace. No time to just be. Hurry, hurry. And in
the end, you still die. All your technology can’t help you there.”

“Yeah.”
Alice took a sip of beer as she considered that. “Tell me about it,” she
finally said, a sudden tinge of sadness to her voice.

Cobweb
studied Alice as she swigged her beer, then offered an observation. “I see hurt
in you. You’ve recently lost someone, haven’t you?”

“Is it
that obvious?”

“I can
tell. Want to talk about it?”

Alice
shrugged. “Why not? For one, my father died a year ago.”

“And you
miss him.”

“Sure.”

“Tell me
about him.”

“Oh,
gosh. He was a delightful man. What wisdom. And talk about your sense of humor.
He always had some witty comment to make.” She smiled at the memory. “Often, to
Mom’s horror.”

“Like
what?”

Alice
laughed at the recollection. “Oh, I remember once, Mom, Dad, and I were at the
funeral home making arrangements for an aunt’s funeral. Now forgive me for
saying this, but this aunt was a pain-in-the-ass, and when she died, some
relatives quietly breathed a sigh of relief. Anyway, the funeral director was
discussing the headstone, and he says that we can have a personal remembrance
carved onto it, and what would we like to say? So Dad says, ‘How about: “I told
you I was sick! But did you listen? No!”’”

Cobweb
cracked up. Her bell-like laughter filled the little porch, and Alice smiled.
It was a captivating sound. Cobweb finally quieted and said, “I’d have loved to
have known him.”

“She
probably wasn’t sure, either.” Cobweb shrugged, then shot Alice a grin. “Y’see,
we fairies are a pretty free-spirited bunch. We don’t marry. Children happen
every so often. And when they do, the fairy community raises them.”

“Your dad
was a fairy, though?”

“He must
have been, ‘cause I’m a full-blood fairy.”

“So, do
fairies and humans sometimes...?”

“Bang,
d’ya mean?” Cobweb said. “Oh, heck yeah. It’s been known to happen. In older
times, especially. Not so much now. Back then, farm girls seemed to fall for a
fairy like a hooker for a gold coin. If a kid resulted, they’d be unusual in
some way.” She laughed. “Usually, just short. Small, like me. In old times,
that was enough to start rumors going. Any tiny child, any teen who was under
five feet tall or had odd-lookin’ ears, they were teased as ‘fairy-bastards’.
And if they showed gifts, like smarts or insight, they-- and their
mothers--were often tried as witches.”

“That’s
horrible.” Alice watched Cobweb sip her beer while she thought about that.
Then, she asked, “How about your mother?”

“Oh, I
love Mom. She’s a sweetie.” Cobweb grinned. “She’s nothing like me. She’s soft
and shy and gentle. I often thought that she was the most gorgeous fairy I’d
ever seen.” Cobweb took a drag on her pipe. “I must have taken after dear ol’
Dad, huh?” She laughed. “Whoever the hell he was.”

“Don’t
sell yourself short,” Alice said. “I think that you’re very attractive. A total
cutie. I’ll bet there’s more of your mother in you than you think.”

“You
really think so?” Cobweb brightened at the compliment. Her wings flapped a couple
of times, and she seemed to glow for an instant.

“I do.
So, you must have some idea who your dad was, if he was a fairy. I mean, there
can’t be that many fairy men around, can there?”

“There’s
enough of ‘em. Personally, I’d always suspected that it was that rascal Robin
Goodfellow. That was his name, but everybody called him Puck.” She snickered,
and shot a glance at Alice. “Never trust a fairy whose nickname rhymes with f–”

“Um,
yeah. Good advice,” Alice said. “So, is your mom still alive?”

Cobweb blew
a smoke ring. “Yup. She was young when she got knocked up with me. She’s more
of a forest fairy, watching over bunnies and mushrooms and stuff like that, in
Europe.” Cobweb gave a snicker. “Me, I get exiled to the New World to pick up
human teeth. Out of the woods and onto the mean streets, huh?”

“Lucky
you,” Alice observed.

“Oh, I
didn’t mean it that way. I like human kids. They’re neat little creatures. And
it makes them so happy, what I do. I can feel their joy and wonder when they
wake up and find that their tooth is gone and there’s a shiny coin in its
place. And that is so cool.” Cobweb smiled, an apologetic smile. “Trust me,
there’s worse gigs.” She scratched her head. “I guess.”

“So you
were born and raised in Europe?”

“Yeah.
There’s still thick forests in some parts, but they’re less and less. Right
now, my people are in Sweden.”

“That
explains the trace of accent in your voice.”

Cobweb
raised an eyebrow in question. “You can hear that? I thought I got rid of it,
that I sounded like, totally American, dude.”

Cobweb
shrugged. “Ah, who knows? I guess she thought I was a pain-in-the-ass, too.
Plus, I’ve never been afraid of humans, the way a lot of forest fairies are.”

“You guys
are afraid of us?”

“Oh, hell
yeah. I mean, wouldn’t you be scared of big creatures who dress up in
camouflage and stomp around in the woods, pissing on trees and shooting at
everything?”

“I guess
I would be. I’ve never thought about it like that.”

“Sure.
Hunting season sucks if you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time. More than
one fairy has spent an afternoon picking bird-shot out of their ass.”

Alice
sipped her beer as she thought. Then, she said, “Tell me about your childhood.
What’s it like, growing up, for a fairy?”

“Like any
kid, I guess. Back then, the forests in the Old World were vast, dark, tangled
things, y’know? Few humans lived in ‘em. They stuck to the villages and the
farms. They saw forests as filled with hobgoblins and nasty stuff. That was our
stomping grounds.”

“So you
never dealt with humans?”

“Oh,
yeah. We did. Sometimes, they’d come into the forests to hunt, or to search for
rare herbs and plants and mushrooms and stuff. And then there was the odd human
who lived there. I guess they didn’t feel comfortable with their own kind. They
were usually pretty cool, once they got over the initial shock of seeing us.”
She laughed. “I remember this one old human. She lived alone, and she was a
real gem with herbs and potions. She had wonderful books, too. We kids used to
love to go around to her place. She’d always have some fresh-baked bread, and
she’d serve us tea and tell us stories about the human world.”

“Like
what?”

“Oh,
kings and queens, and beautiful castles, and hot princesses, and busy cities. I
so wanted to go to a human city and see all the sights. Dear ol’ Mom was
horrified at the idea.”

“She
didn’t like humans?”

“She was
afraid of humans. She thought you guys were violent, nasty critters. She’d
heard the stories of the Black Death. She’d seen humans burn each other as
witches.” Cobweb puffed on her pipe for a moment, then said, “I mean, we
fairies have disagreements too, but if somebody’s different in our community,
we’re not afraid of it. If they have a gift, we honor that, even if they seem a
little nutty. If they’re causin’ a ruckus, though, they get exiled. Go
somewhere else.”

Alice
said, “Is that what happened to you?”

Cobweb
didn’t answer right away. She just puffed on her little clay pipe, seeming deep
in thought. Finally, she said, “That’s neat, Alice. You’ve got a way of cuttin’
through all the crap.”

“I’m
sorry if I offended you,” Alice said. “I just meant–”

“It’s
fine.” She nodded slowly. “And you’re right. I’ve always been a wild child,
always had a knack for getting in hot water. I remember once, sweet, gentle Mom
was actually chasing me with a stick, red-faced and screaming.” Cobweb lapsed
into her childhood dialect. “Fie! Out upon thee, thou wanton sprite, thou
shameless baggage! Hie thee home, or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither! Thy
mischiefs wilt be the early death of me!”

“Good
Lord. What did you do?”

Cobweb
laughed. “Just never you mind. The other fairies were lovin’ it, though. And
Mom tanned my butt good when she caught me.” She looked at Alice. “That’s when
I learned that there’s nothing stronger or faster than a pissed-off mother.”

“Oh, come
on,” Alice teased. “‘Fess up. What did you do?”

“Okay,”
Cobweb sighed. “I, um...”

“Yes?”

“Well,
it’s like this. There was this tavern at the edge of the forest where the usual
gang of idiots used to gather. Woodsmen, hunters, outlaws, farmers,
ne’er-do-wells, and the odd priest or two. At night, the lights were bright,
and it was noisy with voices, laughter, and music. It fascinated us young
fairies. We’d sneak around and watch the shenanigans on a regular basis. One of
the tavern girls–serving wenches, they used to call them–took a liking to us
and fed us ale. Well, we were just into our puberty, and we were pretty curious
about...things. Turns out, it was a brothel, too.”

“Oh-oh.”

“You said
it. Anyhow, I stole a tablecloth and wrapped it around myself, then snuck into
the brothel and caught the local bishop in the act with some gal. As he’s doin’
the deed, he looks up and sees me perched on the window-sill. Man, he totally
freaked. He thought I was, like, an angel from on high come to chastise him for
his wanton ways.” She snickered. “He was right about the ‘high’ part. Man, that
ale is strong. Anyhow, he freaks out andtakes off and runs stark naked through the tavern, moaning and weeping
his repentance and mumbling the odd Hail Mary or two, with me hovering just
above him, wrapped in this sheet, and the gal is right behind us, screaming
that he hasn’t paid for her services yet. That tavern emptied quicker than rats
out of a hole, with drunks running everywhere, wenches screaming, humans
jumping out of windows, crossing themselves, yelling that ‘the end is nigh
upon us’.”

“And
that’s when your mother caught you?”

“Nope. I
chased the bishop into the forest, right into where Titania was holding court.
Picture this: a naked human streaks through her entourage, followed by little
ol’ me shouting damnation upon one randy bishop, followed by the brothel-keeper,
beating him about the head with her stick and screaming for her money, followed
by a seriously-undressed hooker cussing him like a dog. There was a lot of
shrieking, and the place totally exploded with fairies.” Cobweb puffed on her
pipe. “The fairy queen,” she said, “was not amused.”

“I guess
not. And your mom?”

“Hell,
she was part of the queen’s entourage.”

“Ah. That
explains it all.”

“Anyway,
it didn’t change when I grew up. I guess Titania decided that I needed to get
lost for a while.”

“So she
sent you here? To the, ah, New World?”

“Yeah.
Oh, I’m not exiled. I can still live there, but my job keeps me away most of
the time.” She laughed, a tinkling little laugh. “And the commute sucks.”

“You
can’t live here?”

“Where
would I live? Fairies are a social animal, Alice. Like humans. I need that
contact, just like you do with your own kind. And we’re an Old World animal.
That’s been our home since the ages began.”

They
lapsed into a momentary silence. Alice sipped her beer and thought about what
Cobweb had told her. Then, she asked, “So fairies don’t die?”

‘Huh?”
Cobweb looked at her.

“You said
that fairies don’t die.”

“Oh. We
do die, usually of old age. But there is one thing that will kill us.”

“What’s
that?”

“Nah. I
really shouldn’t say.”

“Okay.”
Alice studied Cobweb, then asked, “So, may I ask how old you are?”

“Sure.”

A silence
fell over the porch, and Alice snickered. Cobweb was a tease. “Okay,” she said.
“How old are you?”

Cobweb
shot Alice a teasing glance and a grin. “Oh, I’ve been kickin’ around for maybe
three hundred years.” She cocked her head as she considered Alice. “How old are
you?”

“Thirty.
But you’re really that old? You don’t look a day over about–I don’t know–maybe
early twenties.”

Cobweb
brightened. “Thanks. Once we hit puberty, we fairies don’t age. Not like humans
do.” She took another drink of beer, then asked, “So, are you married, or
what?”

“Nope.”

“‘Nope’
to married, or ‘nope’ to ‘or what’?”

Alice
glanced up at Cobweb’s face. She had an impish twinkle in her expression, one
that made Alice snicker. “That’s a ‘nope’ to married, and a definite ‘could be’
to ‘or what’.”

Cobweb
laughed, a sound which Alice found reminiscent of the tinkling of little bells.
Her voice resumed its smooth, high-pitched purr. “Alice, you’re one of the most
delightfully interesting humans I’ve ever met.”

That gave
Alice pause. She had never thought of herself as ‘delightfully interesting’;
indeed, she thought of herself as plain as dirt, an unnoticeable, faceless
nobody in a world that didn’t care to know her. A smile slowly spread across her
face. She locked eyes with Cobweb, and was once again fascinated, drawn in by
those big, sparkly, liquid irises. God, those eyes! They could make a person
lose their religion. If they had any to begin with, that is.

“That,”
she said, “is probably about the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. Thank
you, Cobweb. I sure needed that tonight.”

“Really!
Well, you’re welcome.” Cobweb cocked her head in question as she studied Alice.
“Did it make you happy, what I just said?”

Alice
swigged her beer, and nodded as she swallowed. “Yeah,” she finally said.

Cobweb
squeaked in delight. Her wings flapped, and she actually appeared to glow for
an instant. “Oh, goody!”she gushed.At
Alice’s surprised expression, she explained, “That’s one of the things we do.
Fairies, I mean. We make people happy. If I made you happy, that is such a coup
for me. Yes!”

“I
thought fairies were mischievous, that they played tricks on people.”

“Oh,
yeah. That, too. Sometimes it’s so much fun to mess with people, you know?
Especially a real asshole. I just love to dust somebody who’s bein’ a total
jerk.” Cobweb took a swig of beer, then rumbled with a musical little belch. “I
guess that’s just my daddy in me.”

“I
imagine so.” Alice thought for a moment, then asked, “What do you mean,
‘dust’?”

“Oh.”
Cobweb laughed. “You know. Fairy dust. Like this.” She waved a hand in front of
her. A little trickle of sparkly, glowing dust tracked through the air, then
dissipated.

“What
does it do?”

“Whatever
I want it to do. It can take away your pain, your sadness. And it can bring
justice.”

“Justice?
How?”

“Well,
it’s like this. There’s a cosmic justice in the universe, you know?”

“What
goes around, comes around?” Alice asked.

“Yeah.
And we fairies help that along. When some schmuck gets what they deserve, it’s
often because a fairy dusted them.”

Alice
thought about that as she drained her beer. As silence fell over the porch,
Cobweb knocked out her pipe, and rose. “You want another beer, kiddo?” she
asked.

“You’re
my guest. I’ll get it.”

Cobweb
waved a hand. “Relax. I’ll get ‘em. I’ve got to pee again, anyway.” As she
headed for the door, she muttered, “I swear, I’ve got a bladder like a
chipmunk.”

Alice
heard the door whisper closed behind her. In the momentary silence, she downed
the last of her beer and considered what she’d learned. Nobody would believe
this. Nobody. If she started telling people that she was having conversations
with the tooth fairy, they’d lock her up for sure. She could hear her mother
now: ‘Honey, maybe you need some more of that Prozac stuff.’

A moment
later, Alice smiled. There was one person who would believe this: Callie. She’d
squeal in delight at the story. Now that would be something to see.

The door
opened, and a slender hand passed Alice a cold beer.

“Oh.
Thanks.”

“Sure.”

Cobweb
perched on the wide wooden arm of the bench, at Alice’s feet. She looked
totally comfortable there, one leg dangling free, one foot tucked against a
thigh. Alice wondered if that was a forest fairy thing, sitting like that.
Maybe they grew up sitting in trees and such. Her balance and flexibility must
be extraordinary. Fairies should do yoga, she thought.

“Well,
it’s not like I can just walk into Victoria’s Secret and shop, y’know.”

“You
ought to do that during Mardi Gras, in New Orleans. You wouldn’t look
out-of-place there at all.”

“Hey,
that’s not a bad idea. I was in New Orleans during Mardi Gras once. Had a tooth
to pick up. What madness! I loved it, until I got smacked in the head with a
handful of beads and fell to the street just behind a police horse.” She looked
over at Alice. “Trust me, you don’t want to fall to the street just behind a
police horse.”

“I
suppose not.”

“It got
ugly after that. I got stepped on, groped a few times, and pick-pocketed. Two
dudes tried to pull my wings off. Somebody else asked me which bar I performed
at. I even got a marriage proposal. I finally got out of the main crowd, down a
side street, when this drunk staggers up to me, holds up some beads, and says,
‘Show me yer boobs.’ Then, he blinks at me with those drunken, stupid eyes of
his, and says, ‘Ah, never mind. You ain’t got any.’”

“How
insulting! What did you do? Dust him?”

“I damned
sure did. Hey, he wanted boobs, so he got ‘em.”

“Cobweb!
You didn’t give him--!”

“I did.
Big ‘uns, too! It damn near started a riot.”

“How’s
that?”

“Well,
this dude taps me on the shoulder and asks if I can do that for his girlfriend.
She got pissed and threw her beer in his face, and he swung on her, but she
ducked. He hit some biker guy instead, and before you know it, everybody’s
fighting. Then some chick yells, ‘She started it!’, and the next thing I know,
I’m bein’ roughed and cuffed and thrown into the back of a van by this great
big constable. I landed on top of a hooker and three drunk chicks.”

“You got
arrested?”

“Yeah.”
Cobweb laughed. “For inciting a riot.”

“Did you
go to jail?”

“Nah. I
went invisible. When they opened the doors to throw somebody else in, I snuck
out of there like a church deacon leaving a saloon.” She took a sip of beer,
then said, “Mom was right. Humans are crazy.”

Another
silence fell, one in which Cobweb peered, really peered, at Alice with those
sparkly, knowing eyes. The fairy loooked at Alice, looked so thoroughly, so
intently, that Alice was convinced that Cobweb was seeing into the deepest
crevices of her soul. God, those fairy eyes. They were liquid, swirling pools
of...of light. Finally, Cobweb spoke.

“It’s no
wonder you asked that question. There’s a lot of pain and sadness in you.”

“I’m not
asking for me,” Alice said.

“Who,
then?”

“Callie.
She really misses her daddy.”

“Where is
he now?”

“He went
off to the war last year.”

“When is
he coming home?”

Alice was
silent for a moment. When she spoke, it was a whisper. “He’s not.”

“Does
Callie know?”

“I’ve
tried to explain it to her. I don’t think she wants to believe me.”

“She
loves him?”

“She
adores him. She asks about him all the time.”

“And you
love him?”

Alice
gave a weak shrug. “I don’t think I ever loved him. I liked him, I guess. I
didn’t know him very well. He was just a fling; we were never married. And when
I turned up pregnant and gave birth, he would visit for Callie’s sake. He doted
on her, and she ate it up.” Alice felt a warm tear trace a path down her cheek.
“Most guys wouldn’t have done that. He did. He must have really loved that kid.
Our kid.”

An
identical tear sparkled down Cobweb’s cheek. “I hate war so fuckin’ much,” she
said. “And I’ve seen three hundred years of it in Europe. Poor Callie. The
innocent always suffer.”

“Can you
fix it for her?” Alice asked.

The fairy
nodded. “Yeah,” she answered. “You bet I can fix it.” She stood, grasped
Alice’s hand, and pulled her up from the bench. “Come on.”

Together,
they entered the house. Cobweb led the way, her tingly, velvet fingers grasping
Alice’s hand. When they reached the door of Callie’s room, Alice pulled Cobweb
to a halt.

“She
won’t forget him, will she?” Alice whispered.

Cobweb
smiled, a reassuring smile. “Nope. She’ll just lose that hurt. For the rest of
her life, whenever she thinks of him, she’ll feel happy.”

“Oh, do
it! Please.”

“Hey. I’m
a fairy. It’s what I do best.” Cobweb glided across the floor and stopped next
to Callie’s bed. For a long, silent moment, she stood there, her eyes closed,
concentrating. She waved a hand across the bed, and a thin cloud of luminescent
dust settled over the sleeping child. Then, she returned to the door. “All
done,” she whispered.

“That’s
it?”

“That’s
it for her.” Cobweb grasped Alice’s hand in both her own and led her down the
hallway, away from Callie’s room. They stopped just outside Alice’s bedroom.

“Now,”
Cobweb said, “let me take your pain away.”

Alice was
silent for a moment, a moment in which she looked down into the fairy’s face.
God, those eyes! “No,” she said. “My pain is a part of who I am. I’m afraid
that, without the pain, I won’t feel the joy, either. And I don’t want to lose
the joy.”

The fairy
eyes gazed at Alice. Cobweb’s head tilted as she considered the human face
before her. “Alice,” Cobweb finally said, “you’re one in a million, do ya know
that?”

Cobweb’s
irises were swirling pools of energy. To Alice, it seemed as if someone else’s
voice answered. “Okay.”

Cobweb’s
expression reflected a radiant joy. She drew even closer to Alice, and she
seemed to grow taller even as she wrapped her arms around Alice’s neck. Then,
Alice realized that Cobweb’s feet were planted on the sides of her pelvis. She
reached down and touched them. “You’re standing on me? You don’t weigh hardly
anythi--”

Cobweb
kissed Alice, and Alice saw stars. She saw galaxies, she saw swirls of radiant,
living color. She felt joy, she felt warmth and love. Her entire body tingled.
Her knees almost buckled. She felt the softness and warmth of Cobweb’s lips,
and the hot sweetness of her breath. Oh, my God, Alice thought. I’ve died and
gone to heaven. And I think I’m going to pass out any second now.

Slowly,
she opened her eyes. Cobweb’s face was in front of hers, those liquid irises
considering her with humor, that face crinkled into a smile. “Hey, doll,” the
fairy said. “I thought I lost you for a minute there.”

“I think
you did.” She blinked a few times, then focused on Cobweb’s face. “How did you
do that?”

“Simple.
I just puckered up and–”

“No. I
mean–Jesus! I’ve never been kissed like that in my entire life!”

Cobweb
grinned. “It’s a fairy thing.” She raised a fairy eyebrow. “And you ain’t seen
nothin’ yet. You up for some more?”

“Oh,
yeah. Oh, hell yes!”

Cobweb
laughed, a tinkling swirl of little bells. “Well, in that case...” She put her
mouth near Alice’s ear. Alice felt a pointed fairy ear press itself against her
cheek.Silken threads of Cobweb’s hair
touched her face. Her fragrance was delightful, a scent of spring woods and
wild-flowers. Cobweb whispered a few words.

Alice
felt herself blush. “Fairies Gone Wild, huh?” she said, as her hand found the
knob of her bedroom’s door and turned it. “I just hope you know CPR, because
I’m probably gonna need it.”

~~~~~~~~

The next
hours seemed dreamlike to Alice, a lush, whirling, roaring storm of sensory and
tactile and emotional beauty which defied description. Later, she would
remember being overwhelmed by it all, by the sweetness and intensity of their
intimate communion, by the touch, the taste, the soft, tender words and
mesmerizing eyes, and by the velvet, tingly, perfect body of the fairy. She
would recall that Cobweb was able to coax a riot of sensations from her, both
body and soul, that no man or woman ever had before. She was sure that she had
blacked out at least a couple of times from its intensity. And she remembered
the emotions; how loved she felt, how filled with joy and contentment. And how
she relished dozing with Cobweb tangled in her arms, a fairy’s wing draped over
both of them and offering them warmth and protection. The silken hair against
her face, the warm, incredibly soft body pressed against her own skin, the
slender hand resting on her chest, the pointed fairy ear near her eyes, the
sweet breath against her cheek; it was all too dreamlike, too intense, too
right to be real. And yet, it was real. It had to be real. This was no
flashback. LSD wasn’t this damned good, not by a long shot.

No, this
was so beautiful that it made Alice’s soul ache.Quietly, very quietly, she wept as Cobweb slumbered against her.
Then, after some time, she drifted into a peaceful sleep, remembering nothing
beyond the moment that Cobweb stirred, whispered something soothing into her
ear, and touched her with a fine sprinkling of sparkling dust.

~~~~~~~~

“Mommy!
Mommy! Look!”

Alice
felt a heaviness on her chest, and a small hand patting her cheek. She opened
one eye. It was dawn. Callie was in bed with her, perched on her chest. She
held up a shiny half-dollar. “The tooth fairy came last night.”

“You got
that right,” Alice mumbled, then rubbed her eyes. Suddenly, they popped wide
open. Oh, my God! Cobweb! Alice glanced to her left. The bed sheets were
rumpled, but there was no sign of Cobweb. A feeling of relief mingled with a
deep sense of loss washed over her. She was gone. Well, at least she wouldn’t
have to explain to Callie the presence of a naked fairy in her bed. Hell, she
was going to have a hard enough time explaining that to herself. Instinctively,
she pulled the covers up to her chin, even though she was modestly-enough
covered.

Callie
climbed off her chest and lowered herself to the floor. “I’m hungry,” she
announced.

Alice
groaned. “You know where the cereal and milk is, honey. I’ll be out in a bit.”

“Okay.
Can I watch cartoons?”

“Yeah.
Sure.” As she heard the patter of little feet head down the hallway, she lifted
her head and mumbled, “Close the...aah, never mind.” Her head flopped back down
on the pillow, and she groaned again.

“Man, you
don’t do mornings well,” a voice said. Alice’s eyes popped open again. She
turned her head to her left, and she blinked a couple of times in surprise..

“I
thought you were gone,” Alice said.

Cobweb
shot her an injured look. “I wouldn’t do that to you, doll. I’d at least say
good-bye.”

“Yeah.
Sorry. I just didn’t see you there a minute ago.”

“I made
myself invisible when Callie came in.”

“That was
quick thinking.” Alice leaned up on her elbows. “You can really do that?”

“I need
to close the door,” Alice said. She made a motion to rise, but the door slowly
swung shut by itself and latched. She looked from the door to Cobweb, who
shrugged and offered an explanation.

“It’s–“

Alice
snickered. “Yeah. A fairy thing.”

“Damn,”
Cobweb said. “I’m gettin’ too predictable, aren’t I?”

“Cobweb,
the last thing I’d ever call you is predictable.”

Cobweb
sat up in bed. “Really? Thanks!” She arched her back and stretched, a slow,
luxurious stretch, and her wings expanded and beat the air a few times. Alice
felt the breeze from them. It was the first time she’d seen Cobweb’s wings in
the morning light, and she was awestruck by the deep, beautiful splashes of
color in them.

“Can you
really fly with those things?” Alice asked.

“Yeah.
I’ll show ya sometime.”

“Okay.”
Alice thought about that, then asked, “Does that mean that you’ll be back?”

“I’m
glad.” Cobweb glowed in satisfaction, then asked, “So how do you feel right
now?”

Alice
thought about it. “Loved. Content. I really feel good.”

“No
sadness? No loneliness? No regrets?”

“No. It
seems odd to be without it.”

“Then
you’ve carried all that crap around for too long.” She smiled at Alice, then
rose from the bed and looked around. “Where’s my dress?”

“I don’t
know. Probably on the floor.” She watched Cobweb walk around the bed. “Cobweb?”

“Yeah,
doll?”

“When
you’re gone, I’m going to be sad and lonely again.”

Cobweb
approached her and sat on the side of the bed next to Alice. She looked down at
Alice’s solemn expression, and she smoothed the tangled hair away from Alice’s
face. “No, you’re not.”

“Yeah. I
am.”

Cobweb
considered Alice with her big, liquid eyes. “I’ll fix it.”

“Are you
gonna dust me?”

“No. I’ll
do something better than that.” She watched Alice raise an eyebrow in question,
and she said, “I’ll make you a solemn promise.”

“Oh?”

“I
promise you that I’ll be back.” She grinned. “A lot. ‘Cause, Alice, you’re one
in a million.”

This
time, it was Alice’s turn to beam. “You, too!”

Cobweb
leaned forward and kissed Alice, then stood. “Now, I could so use a wee-wee and
a cup of coffee. How’s about you?”

~~~~~~~~

As Cobweb
snuck into the bathroom, Alice pulled on some comfortable old jeans and a
tank-top. As an afterthought, she dug into her chest of drawers and drew out a
pair of just-a-little-too-small sweat pants and an old t-shirt. She stood at
the jamb of the open bathroom door and extended her arm to Cobweb. “Clothes for
you. We can’t have a naked fairy running around the house while Callie’s up.”

“Gee
thanks, doll. Oh, I might have to alter the back of the shirt so’s I can wear
it.”

“The
wings, huh? No problem. Do whatever you need to do. It’s an old t-shirt.”

Alice
headed toward the kitchen to make the coffee. As she passed the family room,
she could hear cartoons on the television, and she could see Callie sitting on
the floor.

“G’morning,
Mommy!” Callie called.

“Good
morning, honey.”

A cereal
bowl was in the sink. Callie had eaten. Alice filled the water pitcher and was
measuring coffee into the machine when she heard Callie’s voice again.

“G’morning,
Cobweb!”

Hey,
kiddo.”

A moment
later, Cobweb walked into the kitchen. She was wearing the sweat pants rolled
up at the waist and at the ankles, and a t-shirt with the faded message ‘Cute
But Crazy’ on the front. The fairy looked down at the front of the
shirt.“You’re a laugh riot, Alice,” she said. Then, she pointed at her head.
One of Alice’s baseball caps was backward on her head, the bill touching the
back of her neck. “Hope you don’t mind. I’ve got a massive case of bed-head
this morning.”

Alice was
standing, open-mouthed, in the kitchen. “It’s fine.” She pointed in Callie’s
direction. “She–”

“Yeah. We
met last night.”

“You
did?”

“Sure.
She was awake when I went into her room. Man, she totally busted me. We had a
fun chat.”

“Was she
scared?”

“No way.
She’s a kid, Alice. Kids accept. They believe. To them, nothing is impossible.
Not even the tooth fairy.” Cobweb peered over Alice’s shoulder. “Now, where’s
that coffee?”

“Oh.
It’ll be ready in a minute.” Alice slapped the lid shut on the machine and hit
the button. It began gurgling and hissing and dripping, and she looked up.
Cobweb was not there.

She
walked into the family room. Cobweb was standing near Callie. With the fairy’s
back to her, Alice could see that Cobweb had ripped the shirt down the back,
then knotted the halves together above and below her wings. It worked, in a
strange sort of way.

Cobweb
looked down at Callie. “What’s cookin’, kid?” the fairy asked.

“Cartoons,”
Callie said. She patted the carpet next to her. “Come, sit.”

“Oh,
cool. I love the road-runner. Beep-beep!”

Cobweb
plopped down on the floor next to Callie, and the little girl scooted closer to
her and leaned against her leg. As they focused their attention on the
television, Cobweb’s wing slowly folded itself around Callie, who giggled in
delight. Alice smiled, then walked into the kitchen. As she was pouring two
cups of coffee, she spoke to herself, a soft, heartfelt statement.

“Oh,
crap. I think I’m falling in love.”

~~~~~~~~

Alice
stood on the back porch. She bit her lip. Damn, she thought. I’m going to cry,
aren’t I? She looked up when Cobweb stepped out on the porch and approached
her.

“You
found your dress,” Alice said.

“Yeah,”
Cobweb said, as she located her sandals and slipped her feet into them.

“Where
was it?”

“It was
hanging off the ceiling fan.”

“Huh?
How–?”

“Just
kidding. It was in the bed sheets.”

“Oh.”
Alice felt her eyes water. “So you’ve really got to go, huh?”

“Yeah,
doll. Hey, it’s okay. I’ll be back.”

Alice
sniffed. “When?”

“Oh, a
couple of days.”

Alice
nodded, then wiped her cheek with her knuckles. “Hurry back.”

“You got
it. Shh. Don’t cry, now. Happy, remember?”

“I am
happy.”

“Okay.
Well, here I go. See ya ‘round the town, kiddo.” Cobweb kissed her on the lips,
then stepped back a few paces, and Alice knew that she was going to disappear.

“Wait!”

Cobweb
paused. “Yeah?”

Alice
held out a paperback book. “I thought you might like something to read.” She
shrugged shyly. “You know, for the next couple of days. Until you come back to
me.”

Cobweb
beamed. Her wings flapped a few times, and her body glowed for an instant. “A
book? Neat! Thanks, doll.”

“You seem
to like to read.”

“Yeah.
That’s my mom in me.” She accepted the book and studied the cover. “A hot
romance. Oh, yeah.” She pointed at the name on the cover, then looked up in
amazement. “Is that your pen name?”

Alice
nodded.

“Titania
loves your stuff. She’s got all your books!”

Alice’s
jaw dropped. “The fairy queen reads my books?”

“Damned
straight. In English, even. And this is your latest?”

“Yeah. I
inscribed it.”

The fairy
flipped open the front cover and read the inscription. “Wow,” she said.
“Inscribed to me. That is so neat. You rock! Titania’s gonna be so jealous, and
I am just too cool for school.” She did a little dance on the porch and sang,
“That’s the way, uh-huh! Uh-huh! I like it, uh-huh! Uh-huh!” With a shrug and a
grin, she stuffed the paperback book into the little pouch by her hip. Then,
she stood on tiptoes and kissed Alice again. “Thanks, doll.” She stepped away a
few paces, and jerked a thumb toward the sky. “Well,” she said, “I got to hit
the road.”

“Wait!
How can I find you? I mean, do you have a phone or an e-mail or anything?”

Cobweb
shot her a ‘Duh!’ look. “I’m a fairy. Do I look like I’ve got a computer or a
phone?” Alice shrugged, and Cobweb smiled. “Just think nice thoughts about me.
I’ll hear you.”

“Can I
hear you back?”

Cobweb
considered the question. “You? Yeah. Other humans? Probably not. But you can.
So can Callie.”

“You
think so?”

“I know
so. Adios, baby.” She nodded, and transformed into a bright little ball of
light which flittered around the porch. Alice watched in amazement, then called
out.

“Cobweb?
One more thing.”

The ball
of light transformed back into a fairy. Her wings beat the air as she descended
to the concrete. “Yeah?”

“I’m
really curious. What do you do with all those teeth?”

Cobweb
pointed at the sky. “I scatter them over the heavens. They become stars.”

“Oh, my
God! That’s just what Callie said you did with them.”

“See?
Kids know.”

“And
Cobweb?”

“Yeah?”

“That one
thing that can kill a fairy; what is it?”

“Man,
you’re curious, aren’t you?”

Alice
gave a weak laugh. “It’s the frustrated journalist in me.”

“Okay. I
guess I can tell you.” Cobweb grew solemn. “It’s when people stop believing in
us.”

“I don’t
think you have to worry about that.”

Cobweb’s
expression crinkled in humor. “Me, neither. Not with you and Callie around.”
Again, she nodded, and again, she transformed into a bright little ball of
light. It flittered around the porch, circled Alice a couple of times, and shot
like a streak into the morning sky.

Alice
watched it go, then walked back into the house. As she passed the kitchen, her
cell phone rang. She stopped, lifted it from the counter, and held it to her
ear. “Hello?”

“Alice,
honey. Is that you? It’s Mom.”

“Sure,
Mom. Why wouldn’t it be me?”

“Well, I
called earlier, but I must have gotten a wrong number. I rang Joe’s Pool Hall
by mistake.”

“Oh, I
was just wondering how you girls were doing today. Is anything new?”

Yeah,
Alice thought. I either had another acid flashback, or I had screaming sex with
the tooth fairy last night. “No, Mom. Nothing new. Oh, wait. Callie lost a
front tooth.”

“Oh,
gosh. Did the tooth fairy come?”

You bet!
Three or four times. “Yes. She left her a half-dollar.”

“A
half-dollar? My, my. When she visited you, she used to leave you a dime.”

Alice had
to smile. “Well, when I see Cobweb next, I’ll ask her about that.”

“Who?”

“Cobweb,
Mom. That’s the tooth fairy’s name. Ah, I’m starting to work on a book about
the tooth fairy. What do you think of the name ‘Cobweb’?”

“Oh,
Alice! You’re such a kidder. But Cobweb’s already been used for a fairy’s
name.”

“It has?”

“Sure.
Shakespeare, four hundred years ago. Check out A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
Cobweb was one of the fairies who attended the fairy queen, Titania.”

“Really!”

“Hey, I
didn’t teach English Literature for thirty years for nothing. Go read the play,
honey.”

“I’ll do
that. Thanks. Talk to you later, Mom. Love you.”

“Love you
too, honey. Bye.”

Alice
hung up the phone. Four hundred years ago. Could it be? But didn’t Cobweb say
that she was three hundred–? She smiled at the thought. Well, she decided, what
the hell. Every girl lies a little about her age. She thought of Cobweb, and
she smiled.

A sudden
pout replaced the smile. Oh crap, she thought. I think I’m falling in love
again. No, I’m definitely falling in love again. Damn it! I hate it when that
happens. I always get my heart broken, every single damned stupid time. I never
learn.

After a
moment’s thought, the smile returned. No, I don’t really hate it. In fact, I’ve
rather missed it. And somehow, I think it’ll be different this time. She
snickered at the next thought. If Cobweb does break my heart, she can just...dust
me or something. Yeah. That’ll work. Okay. I give myself permission to be in
love.

She
lifted the coffee pot from the machine, then froze. But was that real last
night, or was it just a hallucination? She rested the coffee pot on the counter
and walked down the hall to her bedroom. Cobweb, she wondered, were you here,
or was it my imagination? Please, please tell me you really exist, and that you
weren’t just bad acid coming back to haunt me. She cast a glance around the
room, then thought: But there’s nothing here to reflect you, is there?

Alice lay
down on her belly on her bed, propped on her elbows, and held a pillow to her
face. It smelled like Cobweb, spring wild-flowers and forest. Cobweb! But that
could be her imagination, too. She lowered the pillow and thought, desperately
thought, of anything around her that could reflect Cobweb, that could make her
real. Nothing came to mind. A hollow feeling began to grow in her gut. Maybe it
was just the acid talking.

Then, she
looked to her right. A t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants lay neatly folded on
the bed. Alice grabbed the t-shirt and held it up. The back was ripped open.
Yes! Alice laughed, rolled around in the bed, held the shirt to her face as she
wept a tear or two of pure joy, as she felt her heart swell so that she thought
her chest would burst. She rose, scurried back to the kitchen, and looked into
the sink. A second coffee mug sat there, a remnant of coffee in it. Never
again, she thought. Never again will I ever doubt the truth of your being,
Cobweb. You are so real.

She shook
her head at the next thought. And I’m in love with the freakin’ tooth fairy.
I’ve got to be totally bat-shit crazy. Nuts. Certifiable. Meshuganah.
Where’s the guys with the net, come to take me away? Hoo, boy. The next stop
for Alice is a padded cell and some serious medication.

And
Callie likes her. That is so neat. But how am I going to explain Cobweb to Mom?
Nah. I don’t need to explain. Mom will delight in her. After all, Mom’s just a
big kid herself.

And Dad?
Boy, I can just imagine what he’d have to say about it all, if he were here.
‘What, you’re seeing a skikse?* I keep saying: you want to be happy, you
need to find a nice Jewish girl– unless you marry a Unitarian, like your papa
did. Okay, so what do I know?’ She laughed. He’d have loved Cobweb, too.

As she
fixed her second cup of coffee, she hummed a little tune. Then, she headed to
the living room to watch cartoons with Callie before eventually retreating to
her study to begin work on a brand-new book. And she knew in her bones that
this book would be her best-selling book ever.